


Estranged

by notSuperboi



Series: The Edge Of Chaos [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Asylum, Human Experimentation, Torture, Violence, alternative universe-superpowers, illegal tests, tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notSuperboi/pseuds/notSuperboi
Summary: Estranged(adj) : to remove from customary environment or associations





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a backstory for Brendon and pretty much explains the Estranged Days. No Brallon/Ryden here, that'll come in the next chapter...anyways, enjoy and have fun!

Brendon woke up to screeching and his head swimming with dizziness flooding his veins. He lurched forward on the cool concrete and emptied the contents of his stomach. All that came up was bile and blood.  
Brendon leaned forward and put his forehead against the floor, waiting for his blurry vision to go away. Once his head was clear, Brendon could finally focus in on the screaming echoing across the walls. It was a girl's voice and she sounded no older than nineteen, Brendon himself was only seventeen.  
A loud bang startled Brendon and he fled to the corner of the cell, pulling his knees up to his chest and shaking violently. Pained groans from failed test subjects filled the boy's ears and he whimpered. There was a mutated man standing next to his cell, the lower part of his body shriveled up and flaking. Brendon almost gagged.

"G-go away."

Brendon's small voice was scratchy and pleading but the man's glossy eyes never strayed from his face. Brendon screeched as the man made a sharp movement and convulsed on the ground, red tinted foam erupting from his mouth.   
Loud footsteps rushed down the hall and three large men in scrubs started shouting orders at each other while Brendon simply squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his ears.

"Dr. Scott! Forget the girl, just toss her out! I have to run a few more tests on this thing!"

Brendon sobbed and clawed at his dirty and ripped jeans, kicking his bare feet against the hard ground. Panic swelled up in his throat and he leaned over to gag and cough up blood.   
His body was rejecting the new serum they placed in his veins and he could feel blood in his throat, choking him.

"Tess! Get the boy an injection or he'll start seizing as well!"

Brendon couldn't breathe and he scrambled back as far from the cell door as he could when he heard the lock turning. A man with slight stubble and tired, crazy eyes rushed over to Brendon and held him down as the boy started to kick and scream, frantically trying to escape. Brendon gasped slightly as he felt a needle pierce the skin on his neck and his vision go blurry. Brendon slumped back and a burly doctor came into the room dragging an oxygen tank behind him.  
Brendon knew from experience that the last thing in that tank would be oxygen. The teen didn't know what it was, he only knew that it did wonders if you wanted someone to hallucinate for an hour. To Brendon, being under with that gas felt like years.   
The man, Tess, Brendon assumed, grabbed his hair roughly and shoved his head back, bearing his throat. Brendon whimpered as another syringe was inserted into his skin and before he had a chance to recover from his daily dose of the toxin, the mask was covering his face and all Brendon felt was fear.

"Carry him to the other ward, I wanna do some more tests."

Tess nodded and Brendon's eyelids drooped. Tears streamed from his reddened and irritated eyes. The room tilted and everything became black, Brendon was swarmed with darkness. Sleep never came easier.

 

0000000000000000000000000000000

Brendon woke with a gasp, thrashing his head around and sitting bolt upright. Strong hands restrained him and he screamed as he was forced to lay back down. Straps came over his torso and Brendon was tied to a hard table.   
Faceless doctors stood next to him, glowering down at Brendon.

"P-please," he whimpered and one of the doctors shook their head, taking out a syringe and filling it with a strange neon liquid.

"Quiet Brendon, we only want to give you a new medicine to insure your safety."

Brendon weakly shook his head, tears steaming down his face.

"Remember, safety comes first that's why we're doing this. We must protect ourselves, right Brendon?"

Brendon bit his lip before nodding.

Is safety was so important then why were they taking his away?

 

"Shush, child. This will only hurt for a second."

And a needle was plunged into his neck, making Brendon squeal. His vision became cloudy and the faceless doctors smiled. Brendon didn't know why, but he smiled back right before darkness consumed his every being.

0000000000000000000000000000

Brendon didn't really remember his family, the amount of medicine he was forced to take really blurred the lines between what was real and what wasn't. Yet, he distinctly remembered one thing his mother told him after his grandma died.

"Grief is not linear, Brendon. It's not a slow progression forward toward healing, it's a zigzag, a terrible back-and-forth from devastated to okay until finally there are more okay patches and fewer devastated ones. The mind can't handle emotions like grief and terror for any sustained period of time, so it takes some downtime."

Brendon was only ten at the time and he didn't know the meaning of those words but somehow it made it easier to grieve after he heard them. Now, at seventeen and locked up in a dirty, rotting cell, Brendon felt that he relied on the wise words more than ever. His mother was a great woman from what he could remember and her speeches were what kept him going.  
He wasn't grieving this time though, he was just constantly terrified and it amplified every time he took the injection. The liquid in the vial made his senses stronger, making him more restless and distracted. At one point the doctors assumed he was having a seizure but his molecules were just vibrating too fast for the human eye.   
Dr. Scott had smiled once he learned of what had happened and had told the faceless doctors that the injection was finally showing results in one of their patients.  
After the incident, Brendon refused to cooperate any longer. He was afraid of what they'd do to him once they figured out that he can do much more than just vibrate his molecules. He had closed himself off, isolated himself from the others.   
The doctors had taken to neglecting him, trying to get him to let them test him. At one point they had locked him in the freezer where they kept the deceased and mutilated bodies and Brendon had screamed his heart out. The doctors came back to check on him in the dark and cold freezer and only took him back to the cell when they thought that he would rip his vocal chords from how loud he was yelling.  
The next day after that, Dr. Scott had ordered the faceless doctors to put Brendon in the sound-proof room and leave him there without any human contact or food. Brendon's ears ringed constantly during the entire five days he was locked up in there. By the third, he was begging for contact and by the fourth, they finally gave it to him.  
It wasn't what Brendon was expecting, not at all. They had filtered in a knock out gas before coming in and carrying Brendon out of the room and to the basement where the failed test subjects were kept. When Brendon woke he was tied to a chair and three mutilated bodies were seated in front of him. Brendon's nose was filled with the scent of rotting flesh and he gagged.  
He was left there for two more hours before a man in a biohazard suit came inside and situated one of the still alive mutations next to a large bucket.  
The man left for a bit and Brendon squeezed his eyes shut as he breathed through his mouth only. When the man came back he had a glowing hot piece of metal in his gloved hand.  
He sat down across from Brendon and kept eye contact with the teen as he thrusted the mutant's hand out in front of him and stuck the hot metal on its skin. The thing screamed bloody murder and Brendon whimpered as he watched the skin melt off of the thing's rotten arm. The stench of burning flesh mixed with that of the rotten flesh and this time when Brendon turned to gag, he threw up foamy bile all over the ground.   
Brendon heard a faint, robotic voice scream through an intercom, "make him watch!"

Brendon flinched as a dirty and gloved hand roughly grabbed his chin and forced him to look at the scene playing out before him. Brendon almost about screamed when a piece of melted flesh stuck to his cheek from the hand that grabbed him.   
The mutilated human was still tied to a chair and writhing, horribly burned arm thrusted out and away from its body. The man in the biohazard suit wrenched the arm onto his lap and started to carefully peel off the melted skin. Strip after strip was placed into the big bucket while Brendon fought hard not to panic.  
Once the mutated being's forearm was completely stripped of skin, the man stood up and left yet again. This time when he came back he held a larger pice of metal that was bigger than Brendon's head.  
The man smiled wide at Brendon before pressing the molten hot piece against the mutation's other arm and watched in fascination as skin bubbled and popped, melting clean off.  
The scent was stronger and the screams were louder, Brendon sobbed. The man continued to peel off the melting skin, watching as it stuck to the arm and became stringy like goop. The deformed and bleeding man only twitched in agony, his vocal cords shredded from his screams.  
Brendon felt light headed and dizzy, the remnants of pain still on the mutation's face. He knew then that he had to get out of there because if he didn't he would die, or something worse would happen.  
Brendon for once felt grateful that he was faint at heart. Especially as his body went into overdrive and the feeling of blackness crept into his vision. He felt sorry that the one enduring the pain couldn't get the gift of unconsciousness that was so gratefully thrust upon him.  
Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he finally closed his eyes to darkness.

00000000000000000000000000000

Brendon heaved a sigh, shaking treacherous thoughts from his head. No, he needed his mind to be clear for this. He sat in his makeshift bed inside his cell, slowly relearning his powers.  
He could do this, he's been training. He quickly slid off the bed and hissed in pain, clutching his bruised ribs. There was a bruise on his torso in the shape of a crowbar and it reached from the top of his ribs to his v line.  
Brendon went up to his cell door and paused, listening for any footsteps. Once the coast was clear, he focused hard on his hand and watched in fascination as he vibrated his molecules fast enough to be able to phase through the cell door. Still vibrating, he put his hand against the lock and stilled as he heard a click, signaling that he had unlocked it. Brendon beamed and slowly tip toed out of the cell, creeping down the hall.   
Loud agonizing groans filled the hallway and Brendon swallowed audibly. He shivered and continued on, absolutely afraid of seeing another mutant. 

"You're okay, everything is gonna be okay. They can't get you here, you're fine," Brendon was whispering to himself to calm his rapid heart rate. He put a hand to his chest, trying to still the rising anxiety bubbling there, "I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine..."

He continued on, slowly walking through door after door, always careful to make sure no horrible doctor was there.  
It seemed like hours before he finally came upon large double doors leading to another part of the building. Brendon's hand was shaking as he grabbed the handle and slowly turned it before pulling the door open.  
His eyes widened at the scene in front of him. A grand staircase leading to god know where was laid out before him. Brendon took a hesitant step forward and jumped, gasping audibly when an alarm went off. It was a loud screeching noise that could've made any dog deaf.   
Loud and pounding footsteps were coming down the halls and from every direction, Brendon only had one choice.  
He shot up the stairs at lightning speed, almost tripping twice. He reached a locked door and quickly phased through it, no time to mess with anything. Brendon ran past more doctors and guards, screaming as one grabbed his sleeve and tore it clean off. He picked up his pace, close to breaking the sound barrier.  
He ran to what he assumed was the front of the large building and paused, taking in everything. People in scrubs were running at him, but in slow motion. He gulped and spun around, looking at dead eyed patients in robes and wheelchairs. There was a reception desk up front that housed a sign saying, "Welcome to Bernie's Asylum! Enjoy Your Stay!"  
Brendon could've cried. He had no memory of how he got here, or the events leading up to this point. Apparently though, he was in an old fashioned asylum housing nut cases.   
Everything seemed to speed up all at once and Brendon no longer felt a strong pull in his gut. People's footsteps grew more regular and fast, causing Brendon to freak out.

"Hey you! Stop!"

Brendon squeaked and started to run again, this time out the large doors in front of the desk. He ended up in a large courtyard, sprinting across the grass. It seemed to be early morning perhaps as Brendon ran past a looming gate. He continued to run once he was long gone and only stopped once the asylum was no where in sight.  
He breathed deeply in, catching the scent of mid summer air. Brendon looked around and noticed he was on a simple homey street. He started to walk down the road and past simple houses. One house particularly, had its garage open. Brendon didn't know why but he felt drawn to it. He was gonna just shake off the feeling and leave when a hand came crashing down on his shoulder.   
Brendon jumped and made a move to start running again when a soft voice started laughing, Brendon shrunk in on himself.

"Hey kid, no need to be scared. You must be here to try out for the band right? We could use a guitar player..."

Brendon looked the guy in the eyes and nodded. One thing from his childhood he never forgot how to do was play instruments, thank fuck for that. He also really didn't know why he said yes, he just felt like something was waiting for him there.

"Great! I'm Spencer by the way. Ryan and Jon are inside, this way come on."

Brendon only nodded once and followed Spencer up inside the garage. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a tall man who was practically all legs wearing a floral vest and hippy style headband.

"Spencer who is this?"

Brendon swallowed loudly, "oh this is the new guy. I actually don't know his name..."

Brendon croaked out with his underused voice, "My uh, my name is Brendon Urie..."

Ryan only raised a perfectly arched brow, "alright? I'm Ryan and Jon is inside getting drinks."

Brendon nodded and Ryan stretched his hand out to him, Brendon took it and smiled as best he could without making anything awkward.

Ryan beamed back, "alright, let's see how good at guitar you really are."

 

And even if he accidentally started singing and instead took the part as lead singer, nothing could compare more to the feeling of seeing Ryan smile. It almost made Brendon forget where he came from.

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! That's all for now folks! See you in part three!!!


End file.
